


The Brooklyn Cocktail

by theivoryshadow



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: Ahkmenrah is a needy drunk, Alcohol, All hail Nick Daley the King of Awkwardly Walking In On His Father, Guy Kisses, Larry's just along for the ride, M/M, Partying, copious amounts of alcohol for both the characters and the Author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:00:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theivoryshadow/pseuds/theivoryshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This,” Larry said, sloshing his drink, “was a <em>great<em></em></em> idea.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brooklyn Cocktail

**Author's Note:**

> Turns out that asking for NatM headcanons after having a bad day leads to my followers on tumblr demanding a drunk!fic. I took it a step further and decided that, to appropriately set the mood, I would have to get drunk as well. So this fic is the result of me chugging a Coke and rum, a sipper of Dewer's Highlander Honey Whiskey, and two and a half glasses of Buttery Nipples. (If you haven't had one of these, you need to reevaluate your life choices. They are too good for this world.)
> 
> Please enjoy, and try not to judge me _too ___hard

“This,” Larry said, sloshing his drink, “was a _great_ idea.”

Beside him, Teddy Roosevelt let loose a booming laugh that echoed through the rafters of the museum. He raised his glass in a salute, grinning from underneath his mustache. “I must commend you, Lawrence! This is an excellent vintage of—of…” Teddy frowned, inspecting the contents of his cheap plastic cup. “What is this, Lawrence?”

“Huh? Oh,” Larry felt the urge to laugh giddily. He fumbled with the bottle that was next to him, peering at the label. “It’s uh—um—”

“Jim Bean’s Honey Whiskey,” Nick said, looking painfully sober. Larry watched through a slightly lidded gaze as his son rolled his eyes heavenward. “Y’know, I really don’t get why I can’t—”

“You, young man,” Larry pointed a finger at him, trying to put on his best Dad face. From the unimpressed look Nick was giving him, it didn’t seem like he was succeeding. “You are waaay too young to be drinking.”

They were in the foyer of the museum, where most of the exhibits gathered at this point. The foyer was ridiculously large, Larry thought, and was therefore perfect for throwing a party. In this case, Larry had decided that a little bit of celebration was in order for having survived the crazy night they’d all had at the Smithsonian. God, that had been such a mess. Larry had gone straight to the nearest liquor store and had stockpiled as much booze as he could afford the day after, and he’d brought it all here, for the museum to share. He didn’t even want to think about how much of it was already gone. Probably an armadas’ worth.

In front of him, Nick let out a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna go check on Jed and Octavius,” he said with a long-suffering look. “Sacajawea said they were trying to drive their car earlier.”

Larry blinked owlishly. “Whoa, what? Drinking and driving is—is _bad_.” He started to get up, pitched forward, and was rescued by a giggling Teddy, who pulled him back to the relative safety of the couch he had moved there from the security office. Nick let out another sigh.

“I’m going,” Larry’s son said firmly. “Don’t get into too much trouble, Dad.”

“Trouble? Since when do I get in trouble?”

“Out of all of us,” Teddy laughed openly, “you, Lawrence, are the most prone to danger.”

“That was like, two times,” Larry protested, and then giggled as he took another sip of coke and whiskey. “It wasn’t my fault that What’s-His-Face was freaking crazy and wanted to rule the world.”

Although the world around him was a little bit blurred and indistinct, Larry felt the couch dip beside him, and a smooth hum had him turning his head accordingly towards the sound. On his other side, Ahkmenrah had sat down, slouching into the springy cushions of the security office’s couch, almost swallowed by the pure amount of material surrounding him. “Are you speaking of Kahmunrah?” The pharaoh asked almost dreamily, taking a sip of what looked like pure rum. Larry shuddered.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his full attention towards the Egyptian pharaoh. “Yeah, uh. No offense, Ahk, but your brother had some serious issues.”

Ahkmenrah shrugged, his eyes unblinkingly trained on Larry’s. It was a little weird. “You didn’t have to grow up with him,” he said. He glanced away. “You weren’t murdered by his faction, either.”

“Uh,” Larry said, feeling thrown and too drunk to handle this. “Well,” he said lamely, “that, uh… that sucks.”

Ahkmenrah frowned down into his cup, then tipped his head back and poured the rest of its contents into his mouth, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Larry found himself fascinated by the simple motion. “Kahmunrah was mean to be the next pharaoh, after my father died. But I was born, and the throne went to me. I suppose I can understand his anger at being robbed of what he thought was rightfully his.” The words were slurred, the alcohol obviously catching up to the pharaoh. “It didn’t make the knife slipped between my ribs any less painful.”

Larry struggled to find a way to respond to that. He was totally out of his element here; even sober, he wasn’t that great of a comforter. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on the pharaoh’s shoulder. He wondered absently where Teddy had gone, because he was definitely not next to them anymore. “Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better, I was almost killed by your brother. Not exactly the same,” he fought the absurd urge to laugh, “but, sort of similar?”

Underneath his palm, Ahkmenrah stiffened. “You what?” He asked sharply, the slur suddenly absent from his voice.

“Uh. Your brother almost—”

“I heard what you said.” Ahkmenrah snapped. His grey eyes were wide, Larry realized, and he wondered why the pharaoh looked so horrified. “What happened?”

Larry pursed his lips, trying to remember. “Well, Kahmunrah’s creepy bird-men had just went back into that—whatever-it-was, underworld thing, and he was pretty pissed off about it. So he said, uhh.” Larry wracked his brains. “Oh, Ivan the Terrible said ‘what now?’ and Kahmunrah said that they should ‘start by watching him die.’ Him, as in me. ” The night guard found himself shrugging, at a loss. “The there was this pretty epic battle, and your brother pulled this weird, curved sword on me—”

“A khopesh,” Ahkmenrah murmured.

“I guess so,” Larry said carelessly. “And I did some of those tricks you showed me a while back, about self defense. It was kinda dicey, there at the end. He almost cut my head off at one point—wow, that’d be weird. Can you imagine me without a head?” Larry laughed, feeling awkward for some inexplicable reason. “That’d be pretty wild. But, um, Amelia Earhart opened the portal to the underworld for me and I threw him in. And I’m still alive,” he added helpfully. Beside him, Ahkmenrah’s expression had gone completely blank.

“Uh, Ahk?” Larry asked. “You okay?”

“Fine.” The pharaoh’s eyes darted over his body, almost as if looking for any injuries. “I…”

He trailed off, his face unreadable. Larry abruptly remembered that his hand was still settled comfortably on Ahkmenrah’s shoulder, and he began to withdraw it. Before he could register it, Ahkmenrah’s bronze fingers had shot up to grip his wrist tightly, keeping him from moving away.

There was a moment of silence between them, and suddenly, Larry thought he understood Ahkmenrah’s strange attitude.

“I’m fine,” he said lowly, meeting the pharaoh’s grey eyes. “Seriously.” Even through the alcohol-induced haze, he could see that his friend needed to hear it. “Pretty sure I’m not dead,” he added lightly, shooting the pharaoh a reassuring grin. Ahkmenrah looked far from amused.

“I would find it,” Ahkmenrah said at last, his voice strained, “rather distressing if you had died last night.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Larry said, nonplussed. “So... uh. No need to be, uh, upset.”

Larry watched as Ahkmenrah studied him, unable to identify the strange look on the pharaoh’s face. “No,” Ahkmenrah finally sighed. “You did not. And of that, I am grateful.”

“Thanks,” Larry said, still feeling confused. He officially had no idea what was going on here anymore. “What—”

Darting forward, Ahkmenrah grabbed his face in both hands, and without warning, pressed his lips forcefully against his.

 _Holy—_ , Larry thought, feeling his brain short circuit, and then there was nothing else in the world except for him and Ahkmenrah, his teeth scraping against Larry’s bottom lip, his hands possessively cupping the sides of Larry’s jaw. Larry could feel the couch shift underneath him as Ahkmenrah moved closer, practically into the night guard’s lap. The kiss was rough, needy and desperate all at once. It was a mess of teeth and tongues, both of them tasting each other, hands running over as much of the other as they could get. Larry bit down hard on the pharaoh’s lip, grinning at the gasp it elicited from him, and gasping in turn as Ahkmenrah fiercely pulled at the night guard’s short hair.

He didn’t know when he’d leaned back, but he found himself braced against one of the couch’s arms, Ahkmenrah above him, kissing him almost furiously. “Don’t,” the pharaoh gasped, parting their lips for a split second before diving in for another kiss with each word. “Don’t you dare, ever, put yourself in that kind of danger again.”

“Yeah,” Larry said dizzily, when they had parted again, “Okay. I’ll definitely make a point not to.”

Ahkmenrah swooped down to claim another kiss, this one just as greedy as the one before; the pharaoh practically drank him in. It felt like he was both savoring and clutching at him, like a man with his last meal. Like if he stopped, Larry would disappear.

From somewhere in the foyer, someone let out a long wolf whistle. Larry jerked in surprise, his body inadvertently brushing against Ahkmenrah’s, and he let out a choked gasp as the pharaoh ground down hard into him in response. _Holy shit_ , Larry thought again, not sure whether to feel vaguely embarrassed or incredibly turned on. His body decided for him, and he deliberately canted his hips up into the pharaoh’s, feeling the blood rush from his head to his—

“Oh my God,” he heard Nick say from somewhere in front of him. Larry froze, feeling Ahkmenrah go rigid above him. Opening his eyes (when had he closed them?), he let one hand fall from Ahkmenrah’s neck to smack against his forehead in chagrin.

“Hi, Nicky,” Larry said, resigned to his fate, and he heard Sacajawea’s giggle behind him as he sat up slowly. He glared in the general direction her laughter had come from. “Uh—”

“Please, don’t even,” Nick said, and through Larry’s hazy vision, he saw his son shake his head. “I already caught Jedediah and Octavius at it. I’m not even surprised.”

“Indeed!” Teddy cried, coming out of nowhere with a fresh drink in his hand. “The whole museum was well aware of your budding romance,” he said, beaming at both of them. Larry spared a quick glance at Ahkmenrah’s face, startled to discover that it was nearly as red as Larry’s probably was.

“Ah,” Teddy said dramatically, swinging one arm around Nick’s sagging shoulders. “Young love. The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful—”

“Are you quoting Mulan?” Larry interrupted him incredulously. “When did you even see Mulan?”

Teddy hiccupped. “Young Nicholas took the time to show me such a wonderful film. He insisted that the whole museum watch it. I found it to be very educational on many subjects.”

“Including young love,” Larry said, voice blank in his surprise.

“It was a very good movie,” Ahkmenrah offered, glancing at him, as if he was trying to be helpful.

“I’m not exactly young,” Larry said, ignoring the pharaoh’s comment. The world seemed to be going too fast for him. He wondered if it would be presumptuous to ask it to slow down.

“But your relationship is just beginning!” The volume of Teddy’s voice had several exhibits turning their heads, looking confused at the commotion. Larry made a quick gesture, trying to silence the president.

“Okay, Teddy,” Larry hissed at him. “Can we not be so—so loud?”

“There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Lawrence,” Teddy replied staunchly. He moved forward to clap his hand on both Larry and Ahkmenrah’s shoulders. “The whole museum congratulates you.” He winked. “Have fun. Now,” he said, turning to Nicky, who looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him up, “I believe we have bets to collect.”

Without fanfare, Teddy ushered Nick away from the couch, leaving Larry and Ahkmenrah to stare after them in bewildered silence.

“They bet on us?” Larry asked finally, breaking the silence.

“So it would seem.”

“Uh,” Larry said intelligently. “Wow, okay. Really didn’t see that one coming.” He shifted his attention back to Ahkmenrah, who looked flustered but unrepentant. The pharaoh lifted his chin as if in a challenge, and Larry huffed out a fond sigh.

“Stop looking at me like that,” He said, bringing up a hand to cradle Ahkmenrah’s jaw. “I’m not going to disappear.”

“I would be very displeased with you if you did,” Ahkmenrah informed him. He scooted forward, so that they were close enough to kiss, breathing the same air. The pharaoh hesitated. “Would you—that is, are you—” Ahkmenrah broke off, looking frustrated. “I wish to court you,” he said finally, his words rushing together like ink stains on a page. He stared at Larry pugnaciously, as if daring him to refuse. Larry barked out a laugh.

“Okay,” he said, feeling a stupid grin spread across his face.

Ahkmenrah looked at him doubtfully. “That’s it?” He finally ventured. “No objections?”

“None,” the night guard side firmly. He found his fingers gently tracing patterns into the side of Ahkmenrah’s neck. The pharaoh shivered. “I think,” Larry added, keeping his voice airy, “we should grab another drink.”

From somewhere in the foyer, and enraged shout resounded through the huge room, followed by ululating war cries that could only come from Attila’s Huns. Larry froze in place, his hand still hovering at Ahkmenrah’s cheek, and exchanged a glance with the pharaoh.

Larry groaned. “Oh, God, seriously?”

Ahkmenrah grimaced. “I think Teddy made the mistake of quoting another line from Mulan to Attila,” he said. “That drink might have to wait.”

“Are you kidding?” Larry asked, rising from the couch. He stumbled, Ahkmenrah catching him at the last moment before he fell forward on his face. “Thanks. Now I _really_ need a drink.”

Ahkmenrah flashed him a smile, white teeth gleaming in the unnatural lights on the museum ceiling. “Let’s go rescue Teddy. We can talk more later.”

“Sounds good to me,” Larry replied, and headed towards the fray.

He may have tripped several times on the way there, but he had Ahkmenrah to pick him up before he fell.

**Author's Note:**

> On a side note, I'm still amazed that I somehow managed to slip _angst ___into a fluffy crack fic while drunk. How? Why? We just don't know.


End file.
